


Old Spice Smells Like Memory

by angelspidey



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - College/University, Amnesia, Canon amnesia, Fix-It, Gay Richie Tozier, M/M, during the 27 years, mike is the old spice guy, mike leaves derry too, this doesnt make a lot of sense just go along with it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:27:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21846469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelspidey/pseuds/angelspidey
Summary: "Hello ladies. Look at your man. Now back to me. Now back at your man. Now back to me. Sadly, he isn’t me. But if he stopped using lady scented body wash and switched to Old Spice,"“Holy fuck-”-All of the losers leave Derry, including Mike, and forget each other. Fortunately, Richie watches a lot of TV, and Mike happens to be the Old Spice guy.
Relationships: Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 3
Kudos: 33





	Old Spice Smells Like Memory

**Author's Note:**

> this is just the result of me finding out that the guy that plays mike is also the old spice guy and wondering what would happen if one of the losers got their memories back after seeing him in a commercial jhfdfhj  
> thank u to spidcrwcb for helping me edit and shit and also for making me get off my ass and actually start writing lmfao

Richie had always had a bad habit of leaving the TV on while he slept, but there was something about the background noise that helped him fall asleep. He found the allusion of people being there calming, which he knew probably stemmed from some deep rooted issues but  _ whatever.  _ This time, however, he was beginning to regret having the tv on as he slowly woke up to a deep voice coming from the screen. “ _ Hello ladies.” _

__ Waking up to that in the middle of the night was off-putting, to say the least, and when you’re half asleep and hungover like Richie it definitely warranted some investigating. With a sigh, he reached for his glasses -- managing to knock off countless unidentifiable objects from his side table along the way -- before pausing slightly when the tv continued, “ _ Look at your man. Now back to me.”  _

Although more alert, there was a strange feeling creeping in the back of Richie’s mind now, and he nearly felt like he was going to vomit. Shit, maybe he  _ was _ going to vomit. Turning towards the tv, he slid his glasses on quickly and scanned the screen, seeing that it was just a commercial playing. It appeared to be a commercial for body wash, and Richie couldn’t figure out why in the hell it was setting off his anxiety. That is, until; “ _ Sadly, he isn’t me. But if he stopped using lady scented body wash and switched to Old Spice-”  _

Richie nearly choked looking at the fit man on the screen, and the first thought to go through his mind was  _ wow, Mike got really hot.  _ His mind was racing as the commercial continued, and he stared avidly at the man’s--  _ Mike’s  _ gorgeous face. He was sure he didn’t know him, but the man felt familiar in a strange way. Richie was almost certain his name was Mike -- despite the fact that he didn’t know a single damn Mike, let alone one that did  _ Old Spice commercials.  _ His head was swimming with thoughts and memories he didn’t even recognize as his own, as he tried to understand how he knew the name of the half naked, and  _ totally ripped,  _ man on his screen. 

He stumbled off the couch, clutching his head.  _ Mike. Mike Hanlon. Derry. -- “anything is possible when your man smells like Old Spice and not a” -- Mike Hanlon. Mike Hanlon from Derry.  _ It felt like the room was spinning. He was breathing heavily and standing directly in front of his TV screen, spreading his hands over it, like he could somehow absorb the answers he needed from an Old Spice commercial. Mike Hanlon was on his screen, riding a horse with no shirt on. Flashes of memories flew through his head as he processed this, just snapshots of splashing around in a river and hanging out at the park, until suddenly he sat up straight.

“Holy fuck,” he muttered lowly to himself, more of a statement than an exclamation. “Did Mike get hot and famous before me?”

\--

The phone rang for nearly a full ten seconds before he heard the other line being picked up. “Hello, this is Mike Hanlon speaking.”

Richie cleared his throat and smiled brightly, using his best customer service voice, “Hey Mike, It’s Richie man how have you been!” He clamped his mouth shut quickly and curled his hand into a fist, cursing slightly at the slightly hysterical nervousness leaking through his tone. “I’m sorry, who?” Mike replied, and Richie nearly sighed in frustration even though he was expecting it. 

“Uh, Richie, Richie Tozier, from Derry? Please tell me you remember something, Mike. The Losers, Bill, Stan,-” there was a clatter on the other end that cut Richie short and he clutched his phone closer to his ear. “Mike? Mike, buddy can you hear me? Do you remember?  _ Fuck,  _ please tell me you’re starting to remember I can’t do this shit on my own man! I can’t even kill a spider by myself oh,  _ fuck,  _ can you hear me Mike? Are you listen-” 

“ _ Richie.”  _ Mike rasped on the other end, sounding like he was out of breath, “ _ Please _ shut the fuck up. I remember now.” Richie would have collapsed in relief if he wasn’t already sitting, but there are pros to making important calls on the toilet. “Yes! Mike! Mikey! You remember me! Oh, thank fuck I really thought I was going crazy here but-” “ _ Richie.  _ What’s going on why-” there was a pause and Richie waited patiently while Mike collected himself. “ _ Why didn’t I remember you?”  _

  
  


Richie let out a nervous laugh, “Ok, so here’s the thing, Mike. We uh, well I don’t think any of us-the losers, I mean- remembered each other. And I-” Richie paused for a second to think of how he was going to explain the evil clown they fought as children and then forgot about, without sounding absolutely nuts. “I mean I have a  _ theory  _ and it’s, well it’s pretty unbelievable. I think we should meet up and you, well you should start getting more of your memories soon. Things will start to make more sense then.” There was a few seconds of silence while Richie waited to hear how Mike had processed that, and then Mike responded, “I feel- I think I understand what you're saying. Give me a date and location and I’ll be there.”

\--

When Richie had been compiling a list of all the phone numbers of his childhood friends he’d been a bit crazed, and certainly not in the right frame of mind to start calling them up for a chat. Amazingly, the internet will really give you any information you need, as long as you dig deep enough and know some really smart (and slightly sketchy, but Richie is choosing to ignore that) computer science majors. 

First, there was Mike. He had the most clear memories of him at the moment. Seeing his face on his tv screen was like lighting up a bulb in his mind, and while he could clearly see Mike, everyone else was still a little fuzzy. He might have jumped the gun a bit by calling Mike so soon and telling him they need to meet in the next few days, but Richie is going to blame his slight imcompetence on the fact that hes had six redbulls in the last twenty-four hours. 

Getting the numbers of his other friends was a little more difficult, with his hazy memories and the fact that the other losers had gone and decided to be normal, non-famous people. It seemed that all of the others were in college, same as him, and more frustratingly, actually quite close. He’d had some of his closest friends living a state away and he hadn’t even known. 

He called Stan next, Stanley Uris. He remembered Stan, one of his first friends ever. Meeting him as a child in the synagogue, and growing up with him and his sharp wit that countered Richies general idiocy. This time, the phone only rang twice before he heard it being picked up on the other end and he held his breath waiting to hear Stan’s voice. “Hello, this is Stanley Uris, to whom am I speaking?” 

Richie couldn't help but let out a laugh, “No need for the formalities Staniel, It’s Richie. Richie Tozier.” Stan paused on the other end. “I- Richie? I don’t know-” 

''Richie Tozier. From Derry. I was at your bar mitzvah, when you made a frankly impressive speech and nearly gave your father an aneurysm.” He could hear Stan breathing heavily on the other end before chuckling nervously, “Richie! You- I don’t know why I couldn’t remember, uh, how long has it been?” 

“Around twelve years, Stan, it’s uh, been a while, but listen I think we should all meet up again, all of the losers. I know you’re over in Buttfuck, Georgia, but if you could make it to LA in the next few days… I think we all need to talk."

**Author's Note:**

> im not gonna go through every single call bc that would be repetitive but mike and stan seemed important... next will be the call to eddie ft richies stupid gay ass and then a reunion of college aged losers that have no idea what the fuck is going on


End file.
